Marked Meanings
by morrigan.1234
Summary: She can't tell him what they mean. He wouldn't understand in the most important ways to begin with, and there's also the fact that she doesn't trust him. So she throws a rag at him and tells him to get to work.


Zuko spends half of his day training Aang and the other half staring at her face and knuckles. She knows why, but he hasn't brought it up and she sure as hell isn't, if he wants to know he'll have to man up.

For a while she's content with that, she'd rather not know about his prejudice fire nation opinions so she lets it sit and tries to think about something other than Zuko staring at her face in general.

She's content on letting him keep to himself until one day it's too much.

Honestly, it's not Katara's fault for what happened, Sokka had unexpectedly caught some sort of cold and had been calling her and Suki every other minute. Suki to cuddle (which Katara wanted to protest against, if not only because they were being gross but because Suki might also catch a cold), and Katara to bring him things. So she didn't have enough time to help Aang with water bending which gave him, and the other boys, time to screw around.

Which is why she's scrubbing a wall covered in some sort of _tacky liquid_.

Katara would've made Aang clean the mess with her, seeing as though he had indeed started whatever happened that lead to this point. She would have dragged him by the ear if he protested but he had claimed that fire bending lessons would happen even earlier than usual tomorrow morning. He said that Zuko told him to go to bed earlier after him and Toph were done since he hadn't spent his night water bending with her. When Katara had turned to Zuko, who had been dragged into the conversation, he had shrugged and said that he hadn't know Aang wouldn't listen to him.

 _Idiot_.

Katara let it go and told Aang to get some sleep, but it was a big wall, and since Teo, The Duke, and Haru vanished even before Katara could demand their help, she made the only other person up help her. And he actually helped, Zuko heated up the water since cold didn't seem to affect the substance in the slightest and also started a fire when it got cold and dark hours later. The thing was, even after a couple of hours her mind was stuck on the fact that Aang and the others couldn't control themselves. Usually it irritated her only mildly because they were having fun and they were in the middle of a war and any light through that dark haze was something she welcomed and tried to encourage to the best of her ability. The thing was that Sokka was _sick_ and he had never had the best track record with illness, even before finding Aang, when their mother was still alive.

She remembers one day he hadn't been feeling well and their mother had made him stay in bed while Katara went out to play. She can still recall when he sneaked out and started to play with them in the snow, the cold air rushing around them and carrying their laughter around the huts. It was amazing, she was having _fun,_ for once she wasn't inside watching everyone else enjoy the snow, this time she was a part of it, so it took a couple of seconds to realize why everyone had stopped playing.

Sokka was leaning heavily on their mother as she walked quickly back to their home, Katara couldn't see what was happening but she could see his head bobbing up and down and a couple of days later, when he finally came back home from the Kashims he wouldn't tell her what had happened to him. Katara asked her mother but she shook her head and wouldn't say anything other than that something had happened to Sokka's spirit but hopefully things were set into their regular rhythm.

But they hadn't been set back until the day Katara's mother had died, he had continued to suffer from wrecking and bone chilling coughs until the fire nation fleet invaded their home. Both her and Sokka had gotten parting gifts from her passing, whatever illness Sokka had suffered from it had stopped and never returned ever again.

Until today, but this time Katara didn't have a shaman, she didn't have her mother to help carry her brother either, and she sure as hell didn't have the patience to deal with this _mess_.

Or, to get back to the point, deal with _Zuko_ , which was a whole other sort of mess.

He was staring again, he was staring and not _scrubbing_ and she couldn't handle this today.

"What are you staring at." She demands without looking up from the rag in her hands, she can hear him fumble with his own rag and she sighs.

To be honest, him being here had lifted a weight off her chest, Aang now has a competent fire bending teacher that can teach him moves that will help him defeat the Fire Lord. She cannot, though, stay fully convinced that he's here to help them. Every time Aang or Toph or even her brother mentions the good things Zuko's been doing lately her mind reverts back to the feeling of her stomach dropping at the image of him turning towards Aang, hand's poised to _harm._

She's fine when they're alone together, which isn't usual, but she knows she can take him, has done it before and if push comes to shove she can do it again. She doesn't let her guard down around him, watches him as much as he watches her, but Aang leaves himself vulnerable. She understands it, she does in fact know how teaching the Avatar or water bending in general asks for trust between the two participants and, grudgingly, she can admit that it's the same deal with fire. The problem she has is that the same blood runs through Zuko's veins as it does through Azula's, who more or less _stopped_ Aang's heart.

And, being honest with herself, It's hard believing that Zuko's changed. It means that things aren't as black and white as she needs them to be during this war, and she needs that simple divide of good and evil that won't be there anymore if she lets herself accept him.

It's why she says her words with a hint of warning in them, why the steaming water between them chills down, and why Zuko puts up his hands in defence.

"I-" he clears his throat and she watches as red spreads over his pale skin, "What do they mean?" he asks weakly, pointing at her face and hands, she can feel her eye twitch.

"What does what mean?" she asks irritated, not particularly wanting to continue on the grounds of their other, previous, soul barring conversation.

He seems to realize the implication of continuing too and mumbles, "Nothing." Under his breath before going back to work, dipping his hand into the cold water and heating it up again. Satisfied she turns away from him and resumes scrubbing at a particularly difficult goo covered tile.

Eventually, they finish, hours later they throw their now disgusting rags inside the mucky water and collapse near the now slowly dwindling fire. She's bone tired and so is he, they both have to get up early tomorrow but he doesn't move and, strangely, she can't find the energy to either. So they sit on opposite sides of the fire, Katara staring at the dying embers and Zuko staring at her hands that are perched on her knees.

She sighs and she can see his face move, she feels his eyes staring but she doesn't look up, continues like they aren't in the middle of a war and aren't sort of half enemies half allies, "They're called Kakiniit, these," she points to her face, "more specifically tunniit. They mean-" her mouth snaps shut, and she drags her eyes up to meet his. The silence stretches and when it becomes apparent that Katara isn't going to continue he scratches his chin softly and stands up.

Dusting off his tunic slightly he shoots a little more fire at the wood at his feet making it flare a bit before dying down again, "Thank you." He says and her jaw clenches, he sighs softly but there's a strange and annoying smile on his face. He turns his back and kicks the bucket of water near her, "When you get up make sure you separate the water and the mess before you throw it on the fire. Don't know if it's flammable, yet." He says and before she can tell him that she already _knew_ that, he's already walking away. He's almost completely out of the fires light before her turns his head and she can see the folded wrinkles of his scared eye.

"It's easier being here, even with our history, we're all marked in one way or another." And she wants to tell him, in that moment.

She wants to share the deep 'v' dipping from her hairline and between her eyebrows, what the lines on her chin mean but then she remembers how the earth rumbled under her feet as his beast of a ship docked onto their shore.

She wants to tell him because he's right, they are all marked, from this war and from their own choosing but she's not ready and he isn't either, so she nods her head, muttering a "Yeah." And lets him walk away.


End file.
